


Heal Thyself

by cosmic_llin



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Doppelganger, Gen, Psychotherapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-20
Updated: 2010-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-10 07:02:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic_llin/pseuds/cosmic_llin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deanna expresses outrage about Barclays holographic interpretation of her as the Goddess Empathy, but secretly reactivates the program when she's alone to interact with her copy.</p><p>Written for the First Anniversary Ficathon at Where No Woman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heal Thyself

0300 hours. Deanna sat awake in her quarters.

She knew what was the matter, of course. A poor counselor she'd be, if she couldn't even navigate her own moods and tempers. But the idea that she was angry about this was almost as annoying as the thing itself.

'Don't be offended,' she had said to Will. 'It's good that he's working out his feelings in a safe environment. Don't take it personally.'

And here she was, ignoring her own advice. She couldn't even focus enough to meditate herself into sleepiness.

And that was how she found herself, at 0322 hours, outside Holodeck Two.

She took a couple of deep breaths before punching in the program she wanted and stepping inside.

There she was, looking incongruous, standing isolated in the fluorescent grid of the holodeck – the Goddess of Empathy. She wasn't activated yet and so she was silent, unmoving. Deanna walked up to her, peering into her empty eyes. The woman's expression was serene, vacant, lifeless. Was that how her own expression looked to others, or was it harder than that to capture the essence of a real person in a creation of light and forcefields? She hoped that the trouble was in the replica rather than in herself, but she was uncertain now. This was supposed to be her. Was that really how they saw her?

Until a few days ago, Reg Barclay had just been another crewman. She'd had a brief chat with him on his arrival to the Enterprise, and, aware of his social anxiety issues, had discreetly offered him the chance of some counselling, but he had refused. Apart from that she had never spoken to him at length. He didn't know her. And yet he had constructed this parody of her and elevated it to the status of a deity. Who knew what impressions others might have formed of her?

'Computer, wake her up,' she said.

The computer chirped for a moment, then seemed to work out what she meant. The hologram looked at her, suddenly, and smiled beatifically, reaching its arms out to greet her.

'I am the Goddess of Empathy…' it began.

'Yes, I know who you are,' said Deanna.

'Discard your facade!' said the Goddess. 'Let me help you to discover truth, freedom, and love!'

'No, thank you,' said Deanna.

'You seem tense,' cooed the Goddess. 'Do you need some help to relax? Sometimes Reg…'

'No!' said Deanna. 'I don't want to hear anything about you and Reg, do you understand? I have enough uncomfortable thoughts floating around in my head as it is.'

'Perhaps I can help you, if you tell me what's bothering you?' suggested the Goddess, putting her hands on Deanna's shoulders in an attempt to calm her.

'You are what's bothering me,' said Deanna, bluntly, stepping away.

The Goddess blinked, confused. 'What have I done?'

Deanna felt a pang of guilt, and then cursed herself for it. It was only a damn hologram. And it was an offensive one, at that. But it wasn't to blame. She sighed.

'Look,' she said. 'You're supposed to be me.'

'I am?'

'But you're not!' Deanna said. 'Look, it's difficult to explain, and it isn't your fault, but… you've raised some uncomfortable questions about how people see me. And I'm not sure I like it.'

'How do people see you?' the Goddess asked, in calm, encouraging tones.

'Ha… the Goddess of Empathy. As if that's all there were to me – as if I just float serenely about the ship all day, understanding people's feelings.'

'And that isn't what you do?'

'I… it's… something of an exaggeration.'

'But with a basis in truth?'

Deanna frowned suspiciously at the Goddess. 'What are you getting at?'

The Goddess looked innocent. 'I don't know. All I know is that I am here to help people to find happiness.'

'Well, I would be a lot happier if I'd never seen you.'

The two of them stood there for a moment, Deanna glaring, the other looking steadily at her.

'This is ridiculous,' Deanna said, at last. 'I don't know why I came here.'

The Goddess considered this. 'When Reg comes here,' she said tentatively, 'he says it's because he can't be himself anywhere else. He says it's only when he's with us that he can lower his guard. Perhaps you're having trouble being yourself?'

She spoke softly, with no judgment in her tone. Deanna nearly switched her off there and then. Who was a hologram to tell her what she felt? Why should she listen? She almost wanted to slap her, to push her over.

She stopped. She laughed.

'What's funny?' asked the Goddess, a little anxiously.

'You're more like me than I thought,' said Deanna. 'Or at least, I need to learn to take my own advice. You see, my patients often get angry with me, especially when I've touched a nerve. I've learned not to take it personally – it's not because they dislike me, it's because I'm making them confront things they'd rather not think about.'

'So what you're saying is... I was right?'

'Well, I wouldn't go that far,' Deanna said. 'But I suppose I do try to project a certain image, and it's not one that always makes it easy for people to get to know me.'

'What sort of image is that?'

'Well... calm. Careful. Not too familiar. Professional. There's a certain detachment that comes with my work.'

'But you're not always working?'

'No... but I'm never really off-duty, either.'

The Goddess shook her head, confused. 'I don't understand – you choose to appear this way, and yet you're angry that people don't see the aspects of your personality that you do not emphasise.'

'But it's not as simple as that!' Deanna said. 'Don't you see, I can't just let go and have a good time! But that doesn't mean that I don't want to.'

'Why not? Why do you act that way, if it isn't really how you feel?' asked the Goddess, perplexed.

'Because I don't want to be…' Deanna began. She stopped. 'Never mind.'

'Tell me,' said the Goddess. 'I'm sure you'll feel better.'

'No I won't, I'll just feel stupid.'

'And who is going to know?'

Deanna was so exasperated she could have shaken her. And of course she knew what that meant. She took a few deep breaths, and looked for the answer. The answer that she'd known all along.

'Because I don't want to be like my mother,' Deanna said, at last. 'It's as obvious as that.'

'What's wrong with your mother?'

'Nothing's wrong with her, she just… she just behaves in ways that embarrass me and upset me. And it's childish and silly of me to care, and I should have been able to work through this by now and put it behind me.'

The Goddess frowned. 'So... being yourself and lowering your guard would make you like your mother?'

'That's not what I meant...'

'It's what you said, isn't it?'

'Dammit...' Deanna turned away and walked to the wall, and back. 'I suppose that is what I said.'

'Is it what you believe?'

'It's not as simple as that!' Deanna said. 'Being a Betazoid... you get caught up in your feelings. Your experiences – even day-to-day things – can be so intense, and sometimes you forget that not everybody has the same... enthusiasm for life that you do. It's easy to get carried away. My mother lets herself get carried away, because she enjoys it. She doesn't care what's appropriate. But I'd rather not make my friends uncomfortable.'

'What about you? Are you comfortable?'

'I don't have to answer your questions!'

'You're right, you don't.'

Disarmed, Deanna looked at the Goddess. It was funny, her expression didn't seem so vacant now. Looking at her was like looking at a reflection in water – distorted but recognisable, and alive.

'All right,' she said at last. 'I'm not comfortable. And maybe I never will be. But this is the person I've decided to be.'

'A calm person? A detached person? A person who understands people's feelings?'

'I suppose so.' She grinned ruefully. 'And who knows? Maybe, one of these days, a person who'll let herself get carried away.'


End file.
